


A Distracting Item

by yunmin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: (or not), Drinking, Gambling, Han Solo is a fine specimen of humanity, Han's Lucky Shirt, M/M, Rogue Squadron, Shenanigans, one-night stand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-02-01 00:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12693354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunmin/pseuds/yunmin
Summary: Han Solo owns a shirt.Wedge hates it.





	A Distracting Item

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spookykingdomstarlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/gifts).



> In which I was looking through the DK Ultimate Visual Guide, observing on all the oddities, including Han's very open shirt, and Spooky goaded me into writing fic about it.

Look. Wedge doesn’t object to everything Han wears. He has mixed feelings about the trousers, but that’s mostly because of his complicated history with Corellia and the bloodstripes, rather than a real objection to Han wearing them.

But would it _kill_ the man to find a shirt that actually fits properly??

The one he has is fine, most of the damn time, but the collar has a habit of falling open at the worst times, and when it does, half of Han’s bloomin’ chest is exposed. Which has the effect of distracting every person with the slightest attraction to men in the vicinity, and usually makes Han all flushed and embarrassed, clutching the damn thing closed until he can get it done back up again.

It happens again, when the Rogues have invaded the Falcon to appropriate Han’s good alcohol stash and placify him with offers to play sabacc, given that they all usually lose to him. “Darn it, I hate this thing,” Han mutters.

Wedge got a good look inside Han’s shirt before he clutched it closed again. A very good look, because that shirt really didn’t leave anything to the imagination, and Han was in very fine shape considering that he sat about the Falcon and complained about running the Princess and Luke about all day long, as far as anyone could tell.

“Why’d you wear it all the damn time then?” Hobbie’s possibly the only Rogue to keep his head in the wake of a clear shot of Han’s chest and abs, power to him.

Chewie roars, with something that sounds sympathetic.

“It’s my lucky shirt, haven’t you heard of a lucky shirt, it’s about the only thing keeping me safe from all your crazy antics!” Han eyes Luke in particular, who just shrugs.

“Solo, the only use for that shirt is if you want to _get_ lucky,” Wes says, with a raised eyebrow.

“Also, stars, please tell me you have more than one shirt,” Tycho chimes in.

He does. Wedge has noticed. He suspects that Solo only owns two shirts though, which is horrendous, but given the general state of the Falcon Wedge isn’t sure he expected anything more from Han. The second doesn’t fit him properly either, though the collar on that one does stay closed. But it’s also far tighter than this one, so it brings its own problems with it.

“I have more than one shirt!” Han’s defensive tone indicates that that _may_ not have always been the case.

“Yeah, sure Solo.” Wedge can’t quite resist a jibe at Han. “And maybe one day, you’ll buy a shirt that doesn’t make half the Alliance want to screw you senseless.”

The Rogues all hoot and call at that one, smiles on their faces. Han sort of sputters in response, an interesting look on his normally cocky face.

“Now look here Antilles, there ain’t nothing wrong with that!” Han has somehow got quite close to Wedge’s face, and his shirt has fallen open yet again.

Wedge looks down it, in an entirely obvious way. “I mean, I’m certainly not complaining.” That draws low ooohs from everyone around, including a couple of remarks that completely agree with Wedge’s statement.

Han looks flummoxed. “Huh?” eventually falls out of his mouth.

How is a man who wears a shirt that low cut that dense, honestly?

Wedge raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. It’s left to Luke to clarify the situation, poor guy. “I think Wedge means than he’s included in the half of the Alliance that would screw you senseless, given half a chance.” Wedge shoots a look of betrayal at his commanding officer. That was putting it far too plainly, as true as it was.

“Huh.” Han rocks back, looking confident and cocky and himself again. “How about that. See boys, lucky shirt.”

The Rogues all groan. “Screw you, Solo,” Wes says, raising his finger in a rude gesture.

“Unfortunately, that’s what you all want,” Hobbie groans, as bickering descends once more. Throughout the entire rest of the evening, Han’s shirt remains stubbornly open, and he doesn’t bother holding it closed any more.

Also, if Wedge Antilles doesn’t manage to leave the Falcon until the next morning, having spent the night in the captain’s bed, well… that’s entirely their business.


End file.
